The Affairs of Dragons
by Corkerite
Summary: Do good mothers have cultists?  Is city elf as nutritious as free-range Dalish?


**Fun Dragon Fact:**  
>Dragons form very extended family units. Although females will retreat from their clutch-mates when they reach maturity, those who survive to reach full adulthood sometimes seek out their siblings. How they do this is unknown.<br>- _Brother Florian, author of "From Flame and Scale"_

_In the bright sky over the remotest reaches of the Frostback Mountains, near where they say the Sky Father buried his heart, two high dragons wheeled around each other, shrieking and roaring so loudly that snow fell from the pine boughs below. Is this a territorial dispute? A dominance display?_

"Titania, dearie, you look awful! Are your cultists bothering you all hours of the day and night with petitions? I _told _you, didn't I, that a cult would only be a problem in the end..."

"They're _fine_, Adamantia. Total sweethearts, really. My drakes have only had to nibble on a few to keep them in line, and they understand that a new mother needs her rest. I don't _know _what I'd do without them."

"But your hatchlings... I mean, don't you think... having the _humans _raising them..."

"It's been wonderful for keeping my weight down! I'm never tempted to snack on them. Look, I know you think I should be doing this all myself, the way you do, but just let it _go_, Adamantia. _Lots _of dragons use human cultists, and it's never hurt their hatchlings at all."

"Well, it can attract adventurers, and why take the risk, I say... wait, what's that look? Did you have adventurers come through? Titantia! Are you all right?"

_The mighty creatures land on a wide plateau, their wings stirring up the snow into a blizzard. Their aerial ritual complete, the dragons nuzzle one another. Is this a display of affection, or a way of sizing up a potential opponent?_

"It's nothing, really..."

"Now don't get bashful with me, little sister! Out here, all by yourself in the coldest mountains you could possibly find, all loggy and slow... What happened? Tell me!"

"Well... yes, it was some adventurers. I thought it was my cult - they have this little horn, it's quite cute. Too-toot! But when I landed, it was these other mammals. I should have flown right off, but..."

"But what?"

"Well... they're not the first adventurers to come through, let me tell you. There was this one fellow with a silly little twig he used to shoot sticks at me, and he was _so delicious_, Adamantia, you would not believe it. Everything here tastes vaguely like mud and mutton, but this one was spicy, like what Mother used to feed us."

"Ooo, a real Navarran?"

"Maybe? I'm not sure. Well, there was this elf with them, this most recent batch, and he smelled just the same. I had to stay around long enough to take a bite."

"Wait, a Navarran elf? Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Tiny, that's just... just wrong! Elves are so delicately flavored when they're all natural. Those city ones... I don't trust them."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you _seen _how they're bred? It would turn your stomach. They're all crowded together in a filthy enclosure, packed so close they can hardly move. They're standing in their own filth half the time, I've heard. They're spiced like that so you don't taste the rot!"

"Oh, come on. This one was plenty fresh and lively. Look, I have scars! Look me in the eye and tell me bad food did that."

"Maybe you got lucky. But I'm telling you, you should swear off city elves. I've gone to strictly free-ranging Dalish for when I want elf, and let me tell you, it is the best. Lean and flavorful."

"By which you mean tough and dry, and it's probably twice as dear to catch hold of. I've got a clutch - I can't spend all day flying around after Dalish elves."

"What good are your cultists if they don't let you go find a decent meal once in a while, hm?

"We just don't get Dalish around here. Not all of us can claim the old Dales for our hunting grounds, you know."

"Well, don't get all snippy! I'm just saying..."

"You're just saying that if I don't raise my brood _your _way and eat my food _your _way, I'm clearly doing it _bad _and _wrong _and Adamantia, I'm tired of hearing it!"

"I'm only trying to _help!_"

_The detente is broken. One great head rears back, and a savage claw rakes at the other dragon. She roars in pain and anger and launches herself into the sky. The reigning queen follows, belching flame, driving this visitor from her domain. The interloper beats her massive wings, heading for the horizon, but turns her long head back to deliver one last, defiant trumpeting bellow._

"When I tell Mother about this, she'll say I'm right! You know I'm right!"

_The nesting mother does not leave this unanswered, and roars in her turn._

"Oh yeah? Mother fed us Navarran elf, too, you know! Yeah! How about _that?_"

...oo00O00oo...

**Author's Note:**

In _Dragon Age: Origins_, Risen Andraste's loot contains an Antivan longbow and Crow dagger. She seems to have confused the slightly lighter, saltier flavor of Antivans raised by the sea with the heavier, smokier Navarran. To be fair, both are typically more aggressively flavored than either Fereldans or south Orleisians.


End file.
